There's an unfortunate caveat that follows any long-established entertainment series. If a book, show, movie, etc. franchise has been around for decades, new creators adding their own stories to its world tend to be overly cautious about changing anything for fear of angering the more passionate areas of the fanbase. The vitriolic reaction to Rian Johnson's brilliant The Last Jedi from a small but unwaveringly loud portion of Star Wars fans proved that point to a depressing degree. Cries of "that's how it's always been!" and "Luke wouldn't act this way!" shielded the delicate egos of many a fan from the concept that characters and ideas can evolve with the times.
So with such emotionally violent backlash to those ideas, it seems highly unlikely that other problematic or outdated issues in the Star Wars universe will be addressed anytime soon. This is sad news, because one aspect of the series that deserves to be dissected is also one that would almost certainly receive just as much ridicule as The Last Jedi. That issue concerns the treatment of droid characters in Star Wars.
Since the very first film in 1977, droid characters have been comic relief at best and blaster fodder at worst. Even though most of them demonstrate obvious sentience, they are scarcely treated as anything more than second-class beings, with even droids who are considered "friends" by the other characters demoted to "tin can" or a faceless machine when things get heated.
40 years ago in the original Star Wars: A New Hope, C-3PO and R2-D2 were essentially conceived as a metallic Abbott and Costello, and their portrayal has changed little since then. It makes sense, considering their status as part of the movie that launched the franchise. But while their inclusion was the eventual catalyst for much more nuanced takes on the idea of artificial intelligence in the series, they themselves remain pristinely in their comic relief packaging. Sure, Luke appears to treat R2 like a friend at times, but the little astromech droid still scarcely has any agency outside of novelty episodes and stories meant as little more than filler.
Actual droid characters who were more than extras or one-offs made few appearances after that until the prequel trilogy, where battle droids comprised the enemy armies. This brought on a whole new set of issues, at least eventually. Their original portrayal in the films kept them largely as obedient soldiers with little to no personality, and they were cut down by the hundreds as dispensable troops. But once the Clone Wars TV series launched, they were portrayed with identities, wants, and fears, and... were also cut down by the hundreds as dispensable troops. They were meant to be comic reliefs for the series, since it's supposedly easier to laugh at someone dying in a funny way if that person is an emotionless robot. Except to make them funny, the creators inadvertently turned them into more than that. But while the droids gained personalities, their lot in life was still that of a mindless drone.
That treatment by the creators (which wasn't malicious, of course) just drives home how audiences see droids. Even when given evolved consciousness, there's still that disconnect where they're seen as "just a robot." Fortunately, it appears that very very slight strides have been made in recent years. With 2018's Solo: A Star Wars Story, audiences were introduced to L3-37, a clearly sentient droid and Lando's partner who actively campaigned for droid rights. But, as mentioned, the strides made were indeed very slight, as her activism was treated as a joke throughout the entire film, even as the character herself appeared genuinely passionate and delivered excellent points in her arguments.
But, conveniently, she didn't survive the movie (at least not in her regular form). In fact, her ultimate fate was to be hard wired into the Millennium Falcon, essentially turning the independent droid into a mindless computing machine. In any other film, this might be seen as commentary on the issues she'd previously brought up. But in this case, it was portrayed as some kind of heroic act on her part that just so happened to silence any discussion about her activism. It was not-so-surprisingly tone deaf, and one wonders what might have been if Phil Lord and Chris Miller had finished the movie on their own rather than being replaced by director Ron Howard.
The mention of L3 brings up another case that could be argued as both more and less effective at drawing attention to the status of droids in the Star Wars universe. The recent novel Last Shot briefly featured L3, though her activism was thankfully taken more seriously this time around, even though she only appeared relatively briefly. The more pressing issue of the novel was the villain, Fyzen Gor, who sought to combine organic and droid parts on a massive scale to create new life. He also had an obsession with droids themselves, bringing up issues about the inherent servitude droids suffered throughout the galaxy. Unfortunately, due to his fanaticism, the actual worthwhile points were drowned out by lots of blaster fire and explosions.
This instance draws an unfortunate parallel to how real world activism is often portrayed in fiction. Many times, uncomfortable truths are brought to light by the villain of a story, which would be interesting if the villain wasn't written as an evil psychopath. Bioshock: Infinite is rather infamous in this regard for showing the leader of the Vox Populi (who fought the overtly racist ruling class) as someone equally as deranged and murderous as the people she was fighting. Maybe it's the writer's way of bringing up these issues while trying not to polarize people, but in many cases, it just comes off as unnecessary and borderline nihilistic.
But what about the other side of the argument? After all, considering this trope has been around since the very inception of Star Wars itself, there must be some defense of it, right? Frankly, there are several. For one, it could easily be argued that droids aren't sentient, but rather programmed to imitate sentience. It's not a difficult concept to sell, especially since virtually every droid in the series has had their programming rewritten in some way at some point. If they had free will, why would it be that easy to erase it? Heck, it's even an important aspect of C-3PO's arc in The Rise of Skywalker. Naturally, it isn't exactly expanded upon, because directly addressing things is far too easy and logical.
Then there's the morality. The battle droids that comprise the enemy armies in the prequels are mass produced for the singular purpose of combat. This saves countless organic life forms the trouble of marching to their deaths in wars. Sure, the droids seem to display some sort of personality, though one could explain that away as just a quirk of their programming. The fact is, even if droids are more than just soulless constructs, the loss of 1,000 droids is admittedly less traumatic than the loss of 1,000 people. It's a gruesome thought, but that gray area can honestly serve either side of the droid rights debate if wielded properly. It all comes back to how the nature of droids themselves has never been fully, concretely established in the series.
So what can be done to address this big little oversight? Frankly, it's not an easy fix, and like prejudice in the real world, it will likely never change completely. But a good starting point could be to use a similar method to one utilized by some authors use to write characters in a demographic they're unfamiliar with. Simply write a character as a human/organic and then make the character a droid after the rest is all set up. Naturally, that would basically be the equivalent of slapping duct tape on a broken window, but again, it's only a starting point. Once more stories come along featuring well-written droids with agency and all that jazz, everyone else will begin to figure out what works and what doesn't, and then it's only a matter of time until L3: The Reckoning.
There are plenty of other examples, since Star Wars is nothing if not consistent. BB-8 as the faithful (but admittedly adorable) companion with little agency, D-O demonstrating proper boundaries while doing little else in Rise of Skywalker, from the mild to the egregious, droids have always gotten the short end of the stick and it seems like nobody ever questions why. Hopefully future writers and directors will be more willing to take risks and explore these themes in future stories. Until then, feel free to continue enjoying the series, cause hey, they're still good. Just maybe take a second to think about it next time.